Blade of Erogrund

Chapter 38- An Army of Blue and Black

Godric's horse turned unsteadily between his legs as it climbed the hill. 

He had ridden at Dunn of course but the mighty stallion that held him now was far from the shaggy mares they had used to pull plows or carry water. Its sleek coat glistened like black tar in the sunny morning light as he followed Ennor's horse and Thain's firm footsteps up the charred ground. 

Even the hill had not been spared the dragons' fire. Every blade of grass was shriveled and every stone blackened with soot. The trees that he, Matthias, and Hilthwen had hidden among were nowhere to be seen. No doubt their trunks and branches had been added to the cloud of ash that covered much of the plain. 

Reaching the top of the small hill, Godric turned his horse with a less than graceful pull of the reigns to stand him beside Ennor's and the other Lords'. 

Before them was the Army of Niron. 

Some mile away the cliffs stood like a mighty wall forming a backdrop to the grandest sight Godric's eyes had yet befallen on. Rows of new wagons lined the rear of the host, among them the billowing folds of countless tents, numerous bails of hay, and the repetitious sight of hundreds of wooden barrels from which the scent of vinegar, wine, herbs, and salted meat wafted lazily. The breeze of the Sea carried these seductive smells through the two hundred ranks of men and women standing tall in half-armor. Shields mounted their backs upon which sat large travel packs filled with the remainder of their armor, tents, and tools. Sunlight sparkled off the new metal that clung to each man's chest and arms until they dazzled in the morning light.  

Banners of each division stood proudly in the hand of its captain, their blue fields covered in the white of their unit's signet. These coarse standards formed the base for the sea of flags that wavered like sails above the vast host. Flags of blue, green, and gold fluttered among the ranks in the hands of each Lord's or Lady's herald - both major and minor - signalling the armies of his or her House. Together the veritable blanket of banners flapped as waves on the sea. 

Among the divisions of footmen were massive wagons of the Dwarves. These stood out for their dark, elder timbers and the small coils of smoke that rose from metal pits bolted to their centers. Even now the occasional hammer stroke could be heard by an armorsmith on his anvil. The ash and smoke from their fires drifted among the banners until it carried with the scents of meat to form an almost pleasant smell above them. 

Finally was the cavalry arrayed in two long lines at the forefront of the host. Standing at the base of the hill on which Godric stood, this was possibly the most impressive part of the army. Not only for the long lances they carried or the glistening of their helms against the daylight but the mere fact that they had assembled. To get such a number of horses from the caves Ennor had deemed impossible yet there they stood. Stable-boys and groomers wove among the stomping, snorting beasts bringing water and hay from the supply wagons. The well-brushed coats of the horses gleamed nearly as brightly as the armor of their riders, together forming a truly impressive sight. 

But above all that struck Godric was the black. 

Everything underfoot snapped with the dry cracking of charred death until smoke and soot rose with every footfall from the field. The Dragons had come neigh on a week ago to prey on their victims, but still the plan was scorched with the marks of their passing. No bodies of the hundred were left, though no one was foolish enough to expect that there would be. Some guards claimed they had seen people among the denser woods east of the city but, staring on the pitch black blanket of embers that covered the field, Godric found himself not believing it. 

"We've managed four-thousand," Thain was saying. The Dwarf had touched his tattoos, ushering the unnerving presence of his battle helm but the fact that he had chosen to stay on foot left him standing five feet below them, effectively eliminating the terror of his armor. "More than I had guessed but fewer than I would have liked."